JBird and the Tutor of Sigma Chi
by Greenstuff
Summary: What do a spoiled brat, a drunken frat boy, and a handsy man have in common? They all earn a punch in the face. Written as a Christmas present for Bujyo, contains lots of silliness and a little smut
1. When We Were Young

**Part 1:** When We Were Young

Mary's first fist fight happened in fourth grade. It was all Ellie Brant's fault.

Ellie Brant's daddy managed Hudson City Savings in Paramus, New Jersey. He drove a Rolls Royce and had a thin little mustache, like a permanent chocolate milk stain on his upper lip. Her mommy always had perfect pink nails and looked like she had just smelled Jinx's morning breath. Ellie had glossy black hair, bright blue eyes and a mean streak a mile wide.

On that Tuesday afternoon, Ellie, Chrissie and Liz were swinging on the swing set as recess, doing their best to take flight into the clear blue April sky. Mary was playing catch with Jimmy on the other side off the playground. At first she ignored the girls on the swings. They were singing some silly song at the top of their lungs, but she tuned it out and focused on the soft leather of her baseball glove and the solid weight of the ball as she tossed and caught. She was going to kill at try outs next year.

"J-Bird and Jimmy, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

First comes theft, then comes prison,

Then comes J-Bird..."

Mary hefted the baseball a little too hard. It whistled past Jimmy's ear, hit the ground, and bounced into the bushes at the edge of the property. Jimmy hurried after it , disappearing into the bushes.

"Watch out Jimmy!" Ellie called swinging high in the air her black curls streaming behind her, "You know what happens when you take your eyes off a Shannon…"

Mary clenched her hands into tight fists, the unsaid half of Ellie's comment running through her brain _They rob you blind_. In the four years since James Shannon disappeared most kids at school had tired of calling Mary J-Bird, conspicuously locking up their belongings when she was around or making jokes about how all the Shannons were thieves, but not Ellie.

The sound of feet landing in pea gravel brought Mary's eyes to the swing set. Ellie had leapt from the swing and landed in the gravel. The swing's chains rattled as it swung out of control for a moment before settling back to gentle rocking. Ellie smiled like a shark approaching a school of fish. "What's the matter J-Bird? Did Daddy steal your tongue too?"

Mary clenched her teeth but refused to give in to Ellie's attempts to bait her. There were no teachers in sight, but Mary had learned years ago that they had a funny way of appearing in seconds if you swore or threw things at teacher's pets like Ellie.

"Fine, don't talk. No one wants you here anyhow, at least if you aren't talking we can pretend you don't exist." Ellie half turned before adding, "At least, when we're upwind."

"Shut up Ellie!" Mary yelled, her face turning red with anger.

"Ooooh, watch out Ellie!" Chrissie called in a mocking voice, "I think the baby-J-bird is going to cry."

Not really thinking about what she was doing, Mary lunged at Ellie, flailing her fists in a poor imitation of the punches she'd seen on TV. She managed to land a few feeble hits before Ellie shoved her and she fell back onto the gravel

Ellie sneered down at her "Learned that form your daddy did you? How to survive prison 101?"

"I said SHUT UP!" This time Mary was better prepared, she launched herself at Ellie, catching her around the waist and tackling her to the ground. She pinned Ellie with her body and struck at Ellie's pretty face with both hands. Her left knuckles connected with Ellie's face. There was a sickening crunch and blood began to flow out of Ellie's nose.

"Girls!" Mrs. Appleton , the fifth grade teacher sprinted across the gravel playground and pulled Mary off the prostrate Ellie.

Mary was suspended for two weeks, but no one ever called her J-Bird again.

Marshall didn't get into a fist fight until he was twenty two years old. Growing up the youngest of five boys, he'd learned early the value of avoiding physical combat and become an expert at redirecting tensions through smooth talk and a quick wit. It was an important skill for a boy who didn't grow much taller than five feet until he was eighteen and who, at twenty-two, still had not filled out his 6'2" frame well enough to be described as anything but scrawny. Peace worked for Marshall Mann.

All of this changed one night shortly after his birthday and it was all Laverne Durvis's fault.

Lavern Durvis and Marshall met in their first year at the University of New Mexico. Lavern sat behind Marshall in Math 101 and tried to copy off Marshall's test paper on their first quiz. After the class Marshall confronted him, with an offer of free tutoring in exchange for Lavern keeping his eyes on his own paper. A tentative friendship followed. Lavern was not the type of person Marshall usually chose for a friend. He wasn't studious, he was a member of Sigma Chi and dated a different blonde haired, doe eyed, big breasted Cover Girl wannabe every week. Yet Lavern seemed to find Marshall fascinating and Marshall, not wanting to be rude, attended parties and football games with Lavern's crowd at least once a month for their entire four year stay at UNM.

Marshall never joined the fraternity, but he took on the arduous task of tutoring several more of their membership and by his third year the only thing separating him from a fraternity member was his private off campus apartment and his 4.2 GPA. After graduation they remained in close contact, Lavern dragging Marshall out for dinner or drinks whenever he travelled back through New Mexico on business, which was often since he always managed to make his trips from the club he managed in Las Vegas and the club's board of directors in Miami pass through Albuquerque.

One of these trips fell two days after Marshall's twenty-second birthday. As was their usual routine, Lavern and three of his fellow Sigma Chi arrived, unannounced, on Marshall's doorstep at ten after nine and all but dragged him downtown to Haven. It was their favorite club. All bright lights, twelve dollar drinks, under aged girls in tight tops and short skirts, and bouncers who would let in a five year old if the kid slipped him a crisp Andrew Jackson.

Marshall stuck out at Haven like an FBI agent at a child's birthday party. No matter what outfit Lavern insisted he wear, his calm, relaxed demeanor and visible respect for women kept him separate from his companions. The Sigma Chi boys grinned like naughty school boys who think they have just pulled on an elaborate prank on the teacher and ordered entire trays of shots for tables of girls calling for "body shots!" Most of the time, Marshall hung back, nursing a bottle of beer and observing the bizarre mating ritual going on before him. However, this time, Lavern insisted that Marshall join the fun.

"Come on, man! You haven't lived until you've licked salt off some chick's stomach!" Lavern tugged at Marshall's arm.

"You're too tense man!" Jackson Kirkpatrick, another Sigma Chi Marshall had tutored at UNM, added. "We're young and sexy…" he looked Marshall up and down, "well we're young anyway. There will be plenty of time to drink beer and dream about saving the world when you're forty."

Reluctantly, Marshall rose from his seat and followed his companions across the crowded dance floor to a table on the other side of the club. There were eight girls in matching pink t-shirts with "bridesmaid" written in rhinestones across the front. Marshall scanned the room and found the bride dancing with Chet a few feet away. He knew she was the bride by the white veil pinned to her long black hair. Marshall shook his head, Chet had always had a thing for unavailable women. When they were in their fourth year, Chet had been expelled after the university found out he had not only been involved in an affair with his married lit professor, but that he'd made a sex tape and used it to blackmail her into giving him passing grades after the affair went sour.

Chet was far from Marshall's favorite person. In fact he was one of the people from UNM Marshall had hoped would find their calling in the armed forces, or the Alaskan oil fields, anything that would take the man far from Albuquerque. Instead, Chet had taken over his dad's hardware store and was a regular members of Lavern's little parties. Tonight he was in fine form. Marshall could see from here that one of Chet's hands was fondling the Bride's breast while he ground his pelvis against her in a sad pantomime of dance. Marshall could tell too that the woman was hammered. She wasn't dancing so much as she was staggering in an attempt to stay upright. Occasionally he head would tip towards Chet's shoulder and then snap up as if she were jerking awake.

Marshall's lips pressed tightly together as he continued to watch the pair. When Chet's hand slid below the woman's top Marshall stood abruptly and stalked out onto the dance floor.

"Hey man!" Chet grinned, making no move to remove his hand from the woman's breast. "there are some fine ladies here tonight. Thank God, I need to get LAID!"

"Chet, she's engaged. This is her bachelorette party, man." Marshall kept his voice low, but the tightening of Chet's face told Marshall the man had heard every word .

"Why you gotta be such a buzz kill? She ain't complaining."

"She's practically ready to pass out, Chet. Just let me put her in a cab and you can go tap any of the unwed bridesmaids you want."

"Fuck off grandpa!"

"Get. Your. Hand. Out. Of. Her. Shirt." Marshall bit out each word, "And. Let. Her. Go. Home."

Chet rolled his eyes, "I told Lavern you were a fun killing tight ass. Why he insists on bringing you along I will never know. What'd you give him a blow job that blew his world wide open?"

Following an urge he didn't recognize or fully understand Marshall swung at Chet, his curled fist connecting with a crack against Chet's stubble dusted cheek.


	2. Older? yes Wiser? maybe

**Part 2:** Older? yes. Wiser? ...maybe.

Since becoming partners, both Mary and Marshall had been in more than their fair share of fist fights. Usually in defense of a witness, but on other nights, nights like tonight, it was entirely because they were partners. Sometimes Marshall regretted the fact that partners were supposed to back each other up, no matter what. Especially given he was almost always backup for Mary when she said or did something that caused those around her to desire her head on a platter.

Tonight was only special because Marshall had been running late. It was all Alice Water's fault. Marshall had his coat on and was just following Mary out of the sunshine building and into the warm April night when his cell phone chirped. He checked the display, sighed audibly and flipped the phone open.

"Marshall." He tried to convey that he was too busy to be bothered in the terse greeting, I didn't work.

Five minutes later Alice was still talking and Mary was beginning to pace. Marshall inserted an "uh huh," to ensure his witness that he was listening to her tale of woe before pulling the phone away from his ear and covering the mouth piece with one hand. "This is going to take a while, meet you there?"

Mary nodded and in less than a minute she'd started the probe and disappeared, leaving only a trail of acrid black exhaust in her wake.

Marshall leaned against the grill of his SUV and listened with endless patience as Alice complained about her neighbor's (crack dealers, she was sure of it), her job (a monkey could do it, in fact they hired a monkey named Earl just last week and are paying him twice what I make just because he graduated from some fancy university) , the weather (you could fry an egg on the sidewalk in the afternoon but by eight it's cold enough to freeze your nose right off), and a dozen other things that had nothing to do with her safety or security and for which Marshall had no solution. When she finished her rant Marshall reminded her that the ABQ PD had already checked out the neighbours (full time foster parents who grew their own vegetables, not crack dealers) and offered to help her search for a more interesting job. This set her off again, this time on five minutes of gushing praise mostly garbled by the fact she was crying and then she hung up.

Reluctantly, Marshall re-entered the sunshine building and filled out a report about the call before he finally climbed behind the wheel of his SUV and drove to the Two Fools Tavern where Mary was waiting.

Two Fools Tavern was Mary's favorite bar in ABQ, and not just because of the name. It was dark and cozy with high quality alcohol and a steady stream of interesting characters. It was also one of the bars that Jinx had never frequented. Marshall knew she frequently came without him. He didn't usually worry about it, Mary could take care of herself better than anyone else he knew. But despite that knowledge, the scene that met his eyes when he pushed open the heavy oak door brought him to an abrupt halt.

Mary stood by the bar, clearly trying to extricate herself from the tall blonde man Marshall had never seen before who held one of her arms in a tight grip.

Marshall was upon them in seconds. "Mary?" he asked, alternating between glaring at the stranger and checking to make sure Mary was ok.

"Marshall!" Her smile was too wide, clearly she had had more than the three empty shots lined up on the bar before her. "Matt was just leaving." Even tipsy and smiling, her meaning was clear.

"Hey now!" Matt piped up, from his steady stance and unwavering glower in Marshall's direction, Marshall assumed the man was relatively sober. "That's no way to treat a man who has been buying you shots for the last hour!"

"No." Mary said pointing an unsteadying finger in Matt's direction. "Drinks. No sex."

"Don't be such a tease."

Marshall grit his teeth. When she sobered up he owed Mary the song, he'd told her a dozen times that just because she could get men to buy her endless free drinks without putting out didn't mean they weren't expecting her to. "The lady said no."

Mary made a rude noise, probably in reference to Marshall daring to call her a lady but thankfully kept any other thoughts to herself.

Matt glared at Marshall, "Back off old man, this is none of your business."

"Like hell it isn't," Marshall said in a dangerously quiet voice, "that's my partner you're groping. Now fuck off."

With a final glare Matt dropped Mary's arm and turned away, only to whip back around, a well aimed fist hitting Marshall squarely in the jaw.

Unprepared for the hit, Marshall staggered back several steps, knocking Mary back with him. When he got his feet under him he lunged for Matt. With surprising amount of strength Marshall grabbed Matt by the front of his shirt, lifted him a few inches off the ground and slammed him back against the bar. After that it was a quick flurry of punches and kicks. Marshall got Matt's nose, Matt's steel toed boots found their mark in Marshall's groin and Mary managed to get a bloody nose and a split lip trying to 'help'.

Eventually the bartender and one of his regulars managed to separate the three and expel them from the restaurant. The cool evening air brought Marshall back to his sense and he grabbed Mary with both hands, restraining her form further attempts at combat, and guided her towards his truck.

To ensure she wouldn't run back to finish what Matt had started he sat her in the backseat with the child locks engaged and buckled the seat belt for her despite the slightly slurred, "I can do it!" One he was sure she was securely fastened in and couldn't leap out of the SUV he climbed behind the wheel. Without really thinking, Marshall navigated the mostly empty streets between the tavern and his apartment. Mary kept up a stream of drunken exclamations, but he didn't bother to respond. There was no point trying to explain to her why a man who spent money on her might expect some physical show of appreciation afterwards, at least not until the morning when her head ached and she lacked the strength to do much more than nod and tell him to shut up.

Mary came out of the SUV and up the stairs to Marshall's door much more peacefully than he was used to. The last time he'd dragged her out of a bar and let her crash on his couch she'd tried at least three times to run back to the SUV to rejoin the fun he'd dragged her from, but tonight she led the way. Marshall unlocked the door and let her enter first, locking the dead bolt and sliding a rarely used chain across the door before turning to face his partner.

Mary's nose wasn't swollen and the active bleeding seemed to have stopped, but there was a trail of crusted red blood starting at her nose and ending in a red-brown splotch at the collar of her shirt. His own face felt like it was swelling in a few different places.

He shepherded her towards the bathroom. Once she was seated on the edge of the bathtub he soaked a cloth in warm water and used it to gently clean away the dried blood. It was not an easy task as Mary kept trying to pull off her dirty shirt. When he was finished with her he quickly wiped the blood off his own face and probed bone around his left eye which was already starting to swell. Nothing appeared broken, but he would have a hell of a shiner in the morning even if he iced it immediately.

"Shower!" Mary announced, once again pulling at her blood stained shirt in an attempt to slide it off.

Marshall stilled her movement with one hand. "I have a better idea."

One hand on the small of her back he guided her into his bedroom. In a matter of minutes he had a clean t-shirt and a pair of shorts with a drawstring. He set the clothing beside her. "You change into these, I'll make us some coffee."

Mary smiled and sat primly on the edge of his bed. There was an unfamiliar glint in her eye and Marshall hesitated before finally walking to the kitchen where he set to work brewing a strong 12 cup pot of Mary's favorite coffee and a plate of crackers to soak up the alcohol in her stomach. Five minutes later he reentered the bedroom carrying two mugs of black coffee in one hand and the crackers in the other. He was two steps into the room when he saw Mary.

There was a tremendous clatter as the two coffee mugs and plate of crackers hit the floor, each rolling a little before coming to a halt in the middle of a small lake of coffee peppered with soda-cracker rafts. Marshall ignored it all, his eyes were glued to Mary's naked form standing in the middle of the room.

"M-Mary, wh-what are you doing?" he stammered.

The glint was still in her eyes as she moved towards him, this time he named it: predatory. Marshall hurriedly stepped further into the room and grabbed the t-shirt from his bed, holding it out like a shield between them.

Mary plucked the t-shirt from his fingers with surprising dexterity considering how much alcohol she had consumed earlier that night and tossed in on the ground. "s'not what I want."

She was so close now Marshall could feel the heat of her body. "You don't want this, Mary." He kept his voice gentle, soothing, like he was talking to a wild animal. She was between him and the door, and he didn't trust himself to touch her to move her out of his way. "Now why don't you put on a shirt and we will have some nice coffee."

Mary shook her head and took another step towards him.

"Come on Mare. You just had too much to drink." Marshall backed up until his back met the wall.

She brought one hand up and ran her finger tips lightly across his face, starting at his hair line, dancing across his cheek bone and ending against his neck. "Beautiful," she whispered.

Marshall swallowed. "Mare…" he pleaded helplessly as she closed the distance between them, pressing her naked body against him.

Marshall's heart pounded in his chest and he could feel the tightening of arousal in his scrotum. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine anything that would stop him from grabbing his willing partner and fucking her against his bedroom wall. Her lips brushed his Adams apple and he came up empty.

Tongue and teeth joined lips teasing, and caressing his throat and Marshall surrendered. He would regret it in the morning, they both would, but in that moment, with her breasts brushing against the fabric of his shirt and her mouth suckling at the tender skin of his throat, he couldn't care about tomorrow.

Powered by something greater than thought, his hands rose to her breasts. He cupped them first, gently taking their weight in his palms thumbs gently running over the velvety skin. Mary gasped when the rough pad of his thumb flicked over her nipples. When he began to gently knead her breasts, circling her nipples with is thumb she arched against him, pressing her body against his growing erection.

Marshall released one breast and let his hand drop to her ass. He dug his fingers into her warm flesh, pressing her firmly against him and forced his knee between her thighs. Mary rocked against him and used both hands in his hair to pull him into a deep kiss. She tasted like tequila and strawberries and Marshall plunged his tongue into her mouth. He pinched her nipple to feel her gasp in pleasure.

He guided them towards the bed, pressing forward until Mary's legs hit the edge of the bed and she sank down onto it. She slid up to the pillows at the top and gazed up at him with eager lust darkened eyes.

The space between them lifted the fog from Marshall's brain and he realized what he was about to do. He hesitated. If he went through with this he would be just another notch in her bedpost, another convenient cowboy for her to ride. He didn't want that.

"I'm sorry, Mare." He whispered stepping quickly back towards the door, "I need more." Before she realized what he was doing, Marshall was out of the room and the door was firmly shut. He rested his head against the cool wood of the closed door and held the handle tightly to stop any attempt Mary might make of coming into the rest of the house.

He didn't know how long he stood there, holding the door shut, willing his body to cool off and his brain to return to logic. When he finally straightened up and stepped back there was silence from his room. Cautiously, he cracked open the door and peaked in.

Mary was sprawled half under the blankets, wearing the t-shirt he had pulled out for her, sound asleep. Quietly, so he wouldn't wake her, Marshall tiptoed into the room and pulled the blankets the rest of the way up. He pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead and grabbed the second pillow before retreating to the living room. Tonight he would sleep on the couch. Maybe an icepack on his eye would help.


End file.
